Cultivation

You’d just found what looked like quite a healthy little seedling, it was still fairly small, so you could probably yank it out of the ground without any problems.

You start pulling with all your might, but the roots are stubborn.

“Y’know stranger, you’ll split the stem right in half if you keep tuggin’ mah saplin’ like a newborn bloflonr’ with no tusks.”

A voice called out, startling you into letting go, leading you to fall square on your rump in the dirt.

A simply gargantuan cor with a mane like a roaring fire steps out of the shade, and he chuckles with a smile.

“M’ afraid you wandered plain into the homestead of yers truly. Colt Vónaso, at yer service.”

He kicks a foreleg out to fold it over the other front paw as he leans against a taller tree.

“Oh, don’t ya give me that sorry sour apple face, mistakes happen. Tell ya what, since you waltzed all the way out inta mah neck o’ the sticks, why don’ I make it worth yer while?”

He shakes out the fur on his neck, fresh dirt falling off him like he’d just been rolling in dust.

“Lemme teach ya how to really get yer hands dirty with an honest day’s work on mah farm . If ya impress me, I’ll even give ya a sampling’ of supplies for ya to take home for yer own bit o’ cultivating. Whaddya say, partner?” (Go to the Prompt)